A Common Cure
by Black Alnair
Summary: AU. Draco Malfoy has an uncommon skill and he offers his services to the Order of the Phoenix to protect his mother. But his strength and will slackens and finally, all Draco wants is peace, but can Ginny Weasley help him find it?
1. Chapter 1

**A Common Cure**

_AU: Draco Malfoy has an uncommon skill and he offers his services to the Order of the Phoenix to protect his mother. But as his importance to the Order grows, his strength and will slackens. Finally, all Draco wants is peace, but can Ginny Weasley help him find peace with her before he seeks it in the Dark? _

Disclaimer: Of course, I am aware and acknowledge that I do not own DG and I am very aware and very much acknowledge that I have not and will not make _any _money from this or subsequent posts.

_Prologue – To Know_

It had taken him three weeks but Draco managed to disarm the wards to his father's private study. He knew his father well enough, or at least better than the Aurors that had failed to gain access to it, to manage the feat. But once he was inside, he didn't know what he wanted to do. Draco knew his father's deepest secrets could be found within the blood-red walls of the room but he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what they were. So he closed it up again and sought his mother in the garden.

But she was not alone. His mother's soft voice was raised to a hysterical shriek and Draco barreled around the corner, wand drawn, anxiety gripping his chest. The only thing he saw were blood-red eyes, and for a moment he thought he was back in his father's study again, before the Cruciatus curse brought him to his knees.

A throbbing headache accompanied Draco's return to consciousness. His body sought the peace of oblivion but the sudden recollection of his mother caused him to bolt up. Pain shot up and down his spine and he crumbled to the ground once again. "Mum," he croaked.

Silence greeted him. He crawled along on his hands and knees, the darkness of the night making it difficult to see anything. He tried to keep his eyes focused and though only mere seconds had ensued before he caught sight of his mother's long blonde hair, it felt like years.

"Mum," he whimpered. He pulled her still form towards her and his own heart pounded so furiously in his chest that he almost missed the sound of her shallow breathing. But he could not wake Narcissa Malfoy and when he placed his cold hands to her, he did not feel the surge of power that always took over him when he healed a creature. So he smoothed his mother's silky hair back from her beautiful face, something she had always done to him when he was a little boy or sick in bed, and waited until he was strong enough to carry her back into the manor.

As it were, his noble actions were unnecessary. The house elves were anxious when they didn't receive an order for supper and finally, a few ventured to look for their mistress. Fossett (Draco's 4th birthday present) squeaked in indignation and surprise to find his young Master and mother in such a deplorable state. He whisked them back to their respective bedrooms and treated them with utmost care but Fossett soon learned what Draco already knew, that there was no simple cure for whatever Narcissa had sustained.

Draco knew he hardly loved anything in his entire life but he did know he loved his mother. His recovery was quick, as it usually was, though he winced when he rolled off his bed and onto the wood floor. Once he was on his feet, however, he did not know what to do or more to the point, who to go to. After all, if the Dark Lord was angry enough to invade Lucius Malfoy's home and curse his family to an inch of their life, he was pretty certain no Death Eater would provide them haven. And who did he know but Death Eaters? He was a Slytherin after all. Zabini. But no, just because he didn't think Blaise would join forces with the Dark or had any immediate connections with Death Eaters didn't mean he or his mother would be willing to risk their lives for others. Then red hair and freckles entered his head. He entertained the notion for a moment but let it pass as well. Even if the Weasleys would help him, he didn't know how to contact them.

Draco could almost feel his face harden in resolution. He would find someone or something that could be of use. He was not willing to bet on whether Lucius would choose his family or the Dark Lord and he had to make sure the fanatical half-Muggle would not be able to access him and his mother by any means. Draco looked in on the still unconscious Narcissa before grabbing a handful of silk handkerchiefs. He slid down the banister to the living room and headed to the back kitchen where he started handing them out to the house elves who began crying and gripping onto his trousers. "Stop it, stop it. You can still work for us if you want!" They immediately let go his expensive clothing and smiled. "Just know that you are free from following whatever orders my father may give if he ever comes back."

Fossett pushed his way to Draco and bowed deeply. "But we will still serve you, young Master."

Draco nodded, feeling awkward but grateful nonetheless. Knowing that he had inspired loyalty from something by a better means than fear felt heady. But he had no time to dwell on that. Draco gave the elves instructions to pack their things and left them to find Graves, the Malfoys' aptly named ghostly butler, and told him to warn him if any 'guests' dared venture into the Manor.

And then Draco again stood in his father's study, with feelings considerably different from what they were that morning. He tore through the room, overturning stacks of carefully organized documents, wrenching out drawers in his father's desk, pulling books from the shelves. Though afterwards, the state of things indicated the blond Slytherin had been in a mad rage, Draco had actually been calm, diligent and methodical above all. He did not miss the secret drawer in his father's desk but smirked when his instincts had been rewarded by a sliding panel in the almost flawless wood. His father was a paranoid man after all. But Draco had been particularly surprised to learn his father's deepest secret did not concern Death Eaters activity but his mother.

* * *

Finding where the Weasleys lived turned out to be less of an issue that Draco had originally thought. His father seemed to have a 'hit list' of sorts, with exquisite details of his enemies' whereabouts, history and favorite foods. Herbert Chorley, Albus Dumbledore, Allen Meadle, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Ted Tonks, Arthur Weasley. Apparently his father did not seem to think much of women. And then there was one particular wizard conspicuously missing from the list.

"You love your mum," Draco muttered under his breathe as he crossed the lawn to the dilapidated home of the red-haired Weasleys. He knocked on the wooden door and it was some moments before an accented French voice asked, "Whose iz sit?"

Draco pondered whether he should reply in French before he shook his head and said clearly, "Draco Malfoy."

There was no response but then he heard a scurry of activity on the other side of the door before it was flung open and he found three wands pointed at his nose. Arthur Weasley was peering at him with great curiosity while another member of the Weasley brood, a tall man with long locks and an earring, had a determined, almost fierce, expression on his face. Draco settled his eyes on the bearer of the third wand, a tired looking man with soft brown eyes. "Professor Lupin, I've been looking for you."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Draco and Ginny clash (literally) in the bathroom...and elsewhere...**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but nothing else is.

_Chapter 1 – Down the Rabbit Hole_

"I don't know about this," Bill said, crossing his arms and looking at his father.

"And what are we suppose to do? Turn over a fifteen year old boy and his comatose mother to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Arthur Weasley sighed as he turned his gaze over to the blond boy sitting by his kitchen window. "Because that's exactly what we're going to do if we don't help them."

Bill sat down and ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. He was perhaps more disturbed by his young fiancée's instant camaraderie with Draco than he was with actually helping a Malfoy. The moment Fleur had set eyes on the blond's sharp aristocratic features, she had attached herself to his arm and when he had responded to her in perfect French, she was in raptures over the "deere boi." She asked him if he was a Veela (no), how many languages he spoke (five, excluding English and he could only read in Farsi and Sanskrit) and to everyone else's utter confusion but theirs, if he knew the proper table setting for a Sunday champagne brunch (apparently, yes he did).

But Bill also looked at the teenage boy sitting beside the window. Though Remus Lupin was walking towards the young Slytherin, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, the stout redhead had never seen anyone look so lonely in his life. He nodded at his father. "Yeah, we need to help him."

Meanwhile, Remus had placed a steaming mug under Draco's nose. Draco looked up. "Thanks," he said awkwardly.

Remus waved a hand. "No need really. Though perhaps an explanation would be nice. A _further_ one, I mean."

Draco nodded. Showing up at the Weasley doorstep with his story would not have required a more in-depth explanation. But showing up with the intent of seeking the aid of a werewolf was another thing altogether. Draco took a sip of his hot chocolate and gave Remus a slight smirk. "Dark chocolate. One marshmallow. You still remember it's my mother's favorite."

Remus averted his gaze and set his mug down on the sill. "Mr. Malfoy, I…"

"It's _Draco_, Professor," his companion interrupted.

"Well then, it's Remus," the other replied, finally looking into silver-blue eyes so much like Narcissa Malfoy's and at the same time, so much their own.

"She never knew."

Remus felt an old tug of pain vibrate through his chest but he only cleared his throat. "Mr. Mal-, Draco, this is not the time to talk of the past."

"It is if the past still matters," Draco said firmly. He also set his mug down and reached into the inner pocket of his robe, pulling out two letters. "She never saw them. I found them only today in my father's desk. I'm not asking you to help her because of what I can do for you. I don't want that kind of help, though I'm willing to offer it. I want you to help her because you still love her."

Remus reached out for the letters with a trembling hand but drew it back. "No…no, I can't take them back. Not yet. But…I'm not sure what I can do."

"Well, if you love her, I figured you would do anything you could."

"Just like you did," Remus said more to himself than to the boy in front of him. He nodded at Draco before turning towards the other men in the room. He had to convince them to save the Malfoys.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was in a sour mood. She had just been in Diagon Alley, buying new school robes and her mother, despite the money flowing in from the twins' business, had insisted on shopping in the bargain rack and purchasing a nice lavender 'fixer-upper.' With _frills_. And just as they were leaving the shop, an owl had accosted her. It was yet another letter from her boyfriend, Dean Thomas, complaining about how she never wrote to him. 'Well, that's a fine way to make me do it,' she had thought. And now, after spending an entire day with her mother, she had to return to a house full of Phlegm (otherwise known as the snotty Fleur Delacour).

As she stomped into the Burrow, her mother cried after her, "You have to remember to do the password question first!"

Ginny only continued upstairs. She threw her purchases on her bed and rifled through her drawers for some comfortable clothing. She needed a long relaxing bath. But when she got to the bathroom, the door was lock. Her brothers never locked the door. She supposed she should've been grateful but impatient as she was, she dropped her items and began pounding on the door. "Get out! I want to take a bath!"

She heard the shower turn off and in moments, the door opened. She flew at her brother, expecting the usual tussle before she could gain access to the bathroom. Instead, she found herself on top of a very startled, dripping wet and half-naked Draco Malfoy.

Ginny opened her mouth to scream but her jaw merely fell slack as she stared at the boy beneath her. His alabaster skin was far too pale, she told herself, as she admired its smoothness. And his hair is all messy, she thought, as her fingers itched to make it ever more chaotic. She hardly realized her fingers were creeping up his chest until Draco grabbed her wrists and ended her progress.

"What are you doing?" he asked mildly.

"What-uh, what, what?" she replied stupidly.

One side of Draco's lips quirked up in a half-smile and Ginny didn't know if she wanted to smack him or kiss him. She yelped at the unbidden thought and scrambled off him. Draco pushed himself up with his elbows and seemed to unfold upward with ridiculous grace.

"You're too thin," Ginny said accusingly as she averted her eyes. She was actually glancing at him (covertly, she believed) in the mirror. He was wearing a far too small towel around his waist.

"I apologize for not meeting up to your standards," he drawled in his familiar Malfoy tone.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and tried not to blush as she stared at a point just above his shoulder. "What are you doing in my house?" A sudden thought struck Ginny. She advanced menacingly towards the much taller boy, finger pointed at his bare chest. "What did you do to my family? Because I swear if you so much-"

"Right, Weasley. I broke into your home, and attacked all fifteen of your armed brothers and then I decided, hey, why don't I just take a bath since everyone's tied up downstairs? There are only, what, twenty three of you in total? I'm sure no one will return in the meantime and ship me off to Azkaban to join my father and his merry men." Draco crossed his arms and looked down at the top of the Weasley girl's head. "Be reasonable, won't you, Weasley?"

Now Ginny was really blushing. "Well…I uh, Malfoy…" She threw her hands up in frustration. Her day was just getting worse and worse. She couldn't even complete a full sentence and she couldn't help but noticed how attractive a dripping wet ferret could be.

Draco frowned. "Don't call me that."

"Don't call you what?"

"Malfoy. Don't call me that. I'm not my father," he said quietly.

Ginny's head snapped up and she peered at the boy before her. It seemed like an odd thing to say. At least, an odd thing for him to say. Draco Malfoy had always been proud to be his father's son, hadn't he? But it certainly didn't sound like it only moments ago. "I thought you admired your father."

"I'm not a killer," he said so harshly that Ginny stepped back. "Not that I know he is…but..." Draco rubbed his temple. The aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse hadn't left him altogether and standing in the drafty bathroom with only a towel around his waist certainly didn't help. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Well, I think I can manage to call you Draco if you stop calling me Weasley," Ginny finally said as she grabbed Ron's raggedly robe and handed it to Draco. 'Because you don't want him to make fun of our shabby things,' she said to herself when she didn't immediately let go of the robe she offered to the Slytherin.

When she finally loosened her grasp enough for Draco to take the robe, he threw it around his shoulders and nodded. "Sure, but on one condition."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. Of course, there were always conditions with Malfoys. "What?"

"If you tell me your name."

* * *

Dinner at the Burrow was an uneasy affair. Draco had wanted to remain upstairs with his mother but Mrs. Weasley insisted on having him sit with the rest of them at the dining room table. Draco almost commented that a dining room table would generally be in the dining _room_, not the kitchen, but managed to bite his lip rather forcibly instead. Having brought an army of house elves with him, Draco left them strict instructions to contact him if there was any change in his mother's condition before sighing and trudging downstairs.

Fred had come home to enjoy his mother's cooking while his twin brother was on a date with Angelina Johnson. To his utter delight and amusement, he had come across Draco and Ginny in the bathroom. He laughed about it throughout dinner while Ginny, who sat diagonally across from Draco, merely played with her food. Bill also poked as his food while his fiancée spoke in rapid French with Draco.

During a lull in Fleur and Draco's conversation, Mrs. Weasley began asking the latter trivial questions about himself.

"How many O.W.L.s did you take?"

"All of them."

"Oh, that's very impressive. Bill and P-Percy," Mrs. Weasley had trouble saying Percy's name and had to pause for a moment, "took every O.W.L. too. What is your favorite subject?"

"Well, I suppose Potions. Though I like Transfiguration too."

"And what is your favorite food, dear?"

"I rather enjoy lentils. Lentil soup." He looked down at his mashed potatoes. "But these are good too."

"Are you fond of potatoes then?"

"Uh, not particularly. But I do enjoy it on occasion."

"Oh that's nice. But you haven't touched the ham."

Draco did not know how potatoes and ham could be attached with an opposing contraction such as 'but' in their particular conversation but let it pass and instead, replied somewhat awkwardly, "I don't eat it."

"Excuse me, dear?"

"I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh," was all Mrs. Weasley could manage.

Even Ginny had looked up during that comment, not that she was listening intently the entire time. There were also moments when she would tell herself not to listen.

"Are you really or are you just trying to be polite, Malfoy?" Fred said with a mouthful of ham.

Draco made a face. Fred's manners were deplorable, exactly like Crabbe and Goyle's during meals.

"Don't call him Malfoy," Ginny finally said when Draco remained silent. She also didn't like the look on his face. It was a bit of the old Draco creeping back in. "Wait, when was there ever a new Draco?"

She didn't realized she had made the last comment out loud until she noticed all eyes were turned to her. Ginny again dropped her eyes to the plate and Fred barked, "I suppose seeing _Draco_ in only a towel has made our sister go bonkers."

* * *

When Ginny snuck downstairs to the pantry later that night, she was surprised to find a shivering Draco Malfoy wrapped up in a blanket with an open book in his lap. She closed the pantry door and sat across from him.

"I seem to run into you a lot."

Draco managed to arch an eyebrow. "Is twice a lot?"

Ginny scowled. "Are you always this sarcastic?"

"What do you think, Gin?"

Ginny smiled a little. Only her favorite brother, Charlie, called her that. She had been somewhat angry that Draco didn't know her name but she supposed other than the Bat-Boogey Hex, he had little reason to notice her. It still stung, of course, but she had managed to accept it without her Weasley temper taking over.

"You could use a warming charm, you know," she chastised.

Draco shook his head. "I'm not exactly cold."

"Your shaking indicates otherwise."

Draco looked at her for a moment before pushing his hair out of his eyes. He had not slicked it back or combed it meticulously as he generally did and now, despite his efforts, it fell in haphazard strands past his brow. Ginny thought it was a good look for him. "It's from the Cruciatus Curse."

"Oh." After a moment, she asked in a trembling voice. "Who-o?"

Draco snorted. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"But why? What have you got to do-"

"I've got everything to do with it, don't I?" The question hung heavy in the air before Draco spoke again. He shook more violently this time. "No, I don't have anything to do with it. And certainly my mother never did. It was because my father was an idiot, following a fanatical half-Blood calling for purity. It's all so foolish and we, his family, have to pay for his failure."

"So you don't believe in it? In purity?"

Draco sighed. "I thought I did. I grew up believing in a lot of things my father once said, you know." He rubbed his eyes. "But I don't know anymore. It's like I went down the rabbit hole."

"What?" Ginny didn't understand the phrase he used.

"I tried to stop Potter," Draco said instead.

Ginny gasped. "You mean, from going to the Ministry?"

"Yeah. Unlike that other fool, I'm rather adept at Occlumency."

"Why would you do that for Harry?" Whatever Draco meant by the rabbit hole, she was sure she was going down it too.

"I didn't. I did it for my mother. I did it for myself. What if Voldemort had succeeded? I would have been branded with the Dark Mark before I was even sixteen. I have seen what Death Eaters do for…amusement. I might be a lot of things but I'm not a rapist or a murderer."

Ginny nodded, believing in the firmness of his voice, the intensity of his silver eyes and the faint shuddering of his damaged body. "So what are you going to do now?"

Draco sighed. "Your father just returned from Order Headquarters. They will protect my mother until I can cure her. In exchange, I will work for them."

Ginny sat up, her entire body rigid. Her voice again trembled as she whispered, "As a spy?"

"No, as a healer."

Draco reached a pale hand out and his finger gently grazed a scar on Ginny's cheek. He could see the fear and confusion in the youngest Weasley's brown eyes. "Where did you get that?" But he already knew the answer. Her mind was open to him.

"At the battle in the Department of Mysteries."

Draco gave her a sad half-smirk. "You Gryffs are so foolishly brave," he said as he traced the scar with the tip of his finger. He felt the tingle of power vibrate in his hand as he healed the mark on her freckled cheek.

Ginny reached up and felt smooth skin instead of the scar she had expected. "How did you do that? And without a wand?"

Draco shifted and closed the book in his lap before responding. "I've always been able to do that."

Ginny stared at him. Her eyes felt oddly out-of-focus but they were in fact focused. Just, it was on Draco and only Draco. Everything else around her seemed distant, blurred, unimportant. "Draco."

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say your name. Because that's who you are. You're not your father. You're…Draco, just Draco." Ginny looked down, feeling foolish for saying something so simple, and did not see him lean forward. He was already pressing his lips gently to hers before she realized he was kissing her and she at long last pushed her fingers into his silky blond strands, something she had wanted to do since she had accosted him in the bathroom that afternoon.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't own Draco.

**A/N: Thanks for all the reads! And for those who reviewed, I really appreciate it! It really encourages me and helps me out.**

_Chapter 2 – Once Upon a Time_

"Hey Ginny, do you want to get a compartment together?"

Once upon a time, Ginny Weasley wouldn't have been more pleased by such a request from the Boy-Who-Lived. Instead, she forced herself to smile as she said, "Sorry, I told Dean I would meet up with him."

She barely noticed Harry's face drop before she turned away and continued heading down the corridor. She, in fact, had no plans of meeting up with her boyfriend. Rather, she was looking for a certain tall blond Slytherin. Ever since the kiss they shared in the pantry, all she could think about was Draco. His lips on hers, the warmth that radiated from him as healed her, his hands wandering idly under her shirt. She had never felt anything so intense in her life. And the next morning, he was gone.

All summer she had hoped he would write or somehow contact her, let her know that he had felt something too, but she hadn't heard anything from him. But of course, her parents had forbidden any of them to speak of him. As far as she knew, even George didn't know what his twin was privy to. So for the ensuing weeks she wondered whether he had only wanted a quick snog or if he had been thinking about her too.

Near the back of the train, she came across a compartment with its blinds drawn. She tried the door. It wouldn't slide open so pulling out her wand, she took a quick glance around before whispering, "_Alohomora_." The door clicked open and she slid the panel far enough to squeeze through and found herself at the other end of a wand.

"Ginny?"

"Tonks, what are you-"

"Shhhh!" Tonks whispered harshly with her teeth. She closed the door with a quick swish of her wand. "I didn't think anyone would try to break in. I suppose I should have put up some wards."

"I'm sorry," replied a flustered Ginny. She had never seen the usually bubbly Auror angry before and suffice to say, it was a rather alarming experience. "I-I…guess I should go."

"Wait, Ginny," Tonks said in a softer tone. She rubbed her eyes. "I should be the one apologizing for snapping at you. You surprised me is all. And I was afraid you would wake Draco, though at this point, I don't think anything would wake him."

"Draco?" Ginny squeaked. She felt her chest tighten as her eyes began to adjust to the darken room and she caught sight of the white-blond hair against one side of Tonks' leg.

"Ay, do you think you can watch Draco for a minute? I've been itching to go to the loo."

"Sure," Ginny replied, hoping she didn't sound too excited.

"Thanks. I'll lock the door for the outside," Tonks said, placing her hands gently under Draco's head and placing it softly on the seat. "I'll be back in a flash."

Once the panel slid shut, Ginny took Tonks' place beside Draco. Ginny bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, when she had gotten a better look at him. The Slytherin boy was stretched across the seat, his body completely still except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest. She recalled telling him in the summer that he was too thin but now his cheekbones were prominent and his clothing rather loose. She could see gray circles under his eyes and a general feeling of exhaustion seemed to emanate from him. Reaching out with tentative fingers, she brushed his blond locks from his face. His fringe was now long enough to graze his cheek.

She was still idly playing with his hair when Tonks returned, loaded with sweets. She dropped it all in a heap when she saw Ginny. "Uh, Ginevra, we need to talk."

From the look on Tonks' face, Ginny knew she should distance herself from Draco, but she merely nodded at the older witch instead, indicating that she should say her piece.

"I don't know what is going on between you and Draco but he doesn't need this right now," she said sternly, taking the seat opposite the two teenagers.

"What do you mean?" Ginny replied defensively.

Grabbing a Chocolate Frog from the floor, Tonks ripped the package opened and took a bite before the candy could leap away. "What do you think of Draco?"

"Um, I really can't say. He's just…" Ginny floundered for words and she hated Tonks at the moment for putting her in such a position.

"Look, Ginny, you have to understand that Draco has never been a child. Childish, yes, but never a child. He has a lot on his plate right now, what with the Order and his mother. I don't think some silly teenage romance would be good for him. He doesn't need an emotional rollercoaster ride. He needs someone who will be there for him, and I really don't mean to be offensive, but I don't think you're it."

Ginny fumed at Tonks' presumption. "How do you know I won't be any good for him? How dare you-"

A moan at her side halted her tirade. Draco's hands were gripping the sides of his head and his eyes were screwed shut in pain. Tonks immediately leaped up and shoved Ginny out of the door. "Don't come back in," Tonks hissed as she slammed the panel. Ginny heard the lock click and knew that 'Alohomora' would not be good enough to gain entrance this time.

Draco was usually the last one to arrive at the Prefect meetings and the first one to leave. So after a week of staring at his decrepitating form from across the Great Hall, Ginny decided that the only way she could even talk to him properly was to forgo the Prefect meeting and catch him as he returned to his quarters. She knew Ron would hound her about her absence afterwards but at this point, she didn't care. She felt as though she was going insane.

It was half past nine, which meant the meeting was almost over. Ginny straightened from her hiding spot in a stone doorway when she heard heavy footsteps come near. A flash of blond hair passed her and Ginny made quick work as she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the empty classroom behind her. Before she even had a chance to say a word to him though, the tip of his wand was against her temple.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise when he saw his attacker. For one thing, he had meant to point his wand at a much taller person's chest, not at a young girl's head. He lowered his wand but narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, Weasley?" The question came out harder than he meant it to.

"Oh, back to last names now, are we, Malfoy?" Ginny said, crossing her arms angrily.

"_You _don't have to be so defensive," Draco muttered as he put away his wand. "After all, you're the one who mauled me."

"Mauled _you_? I hardly did anything of the sort!" And before Ginny could straighten her thoughts or even think for that matter, because afterwards she would tell herself she hadn't been thinking at all, she cried, "_This_ is mauling you."

When Ginny Weasley had thrown herself at him, all Draco could think of was catching her. But in the next moment, all he could think of was kissing her and running his hands along her small frame. Their mouths met in a hungry sloppy kiss, their teeth clanking against one another, their tongues fighting for dominance. When they finally broke apart, they both stepped back and could tell by the state of disarray the other one was in that each had been thoroughly snogged.

"What the hell was that?" Draco finally managed.

It was certainly not the response Ginny was anticipating. She felt tears prick the corner of her eyes and pushed past him to get to the door. But just as she was about to turn the knob, she felt rough hands grab her waist and spin her around. Before she knew it, she was lifted up against the door, her arms around Draco's narrow shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. "What the hell is this?" Ginny breathed.

Draco didn't respond. He just leaned in.

Twenty minutes of intense snogging later, Draco could feel his knees shake. He slid down to the floor, bringing Ginny with him. He laid flat on his back, barely able to breathe.

"Draco?" she cried in a panicked voice. He was practically hyperventilating and his pupils were so dilated, his eyes looked almost black. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny gently brought his head to rest in her lap as he tried to gain his breath. It was some time later before he croaked, "I don't think I can do this."

Ginny's chest constricted. "What's wrong with you?"

But Draco only shook his head. He rolled off her lap and scrambled to a kneeling position before he was able to get on his feet. He swayed slightly, the room spinning dizzyingly around him.

"Draco?" To Ginny, it looked like he would fall at any moment.

"I'm too tired," he finally said.

"You do look exhausted," Ginny replied carefully, almost fearing that the wrong words would cause him to break.

Looking around him for a moment, Draco moved back until he was leaning against the wall. His head was throbbing again but he couldn't manage to bring his hands up to soothe his pain. He closed his eyes and almost dozed off against the wall. It was possible that he had. In any case, when he opened his eyes again, he saw a pair of concerned brown eyes peering at him.

They looked at each other in silence. Draco too tired to really focus, Ginny unable to see past his fatigue. "What have you been doing for the Order? You're just healing people, aren't you?"

"It's not that simple," he mumbled.

"Well, I supposed you can't tell me. No one tells me anything," Ginny sighed.

"You only think you want to know because you don't know," he said quietly. "You don't want to know."

Ginny's anger flared. "Don't tell me what I want and don't want!"

"You don't even know what it is you want," Draco said in an exasperated tone.

"I want you!"

Draco blinked in surprise. He supposed after the past half hour he shouldn't have been so astonished but he was nonetheless. "Those are two different subjects."

"Don't try to change the subject," Ginny said, emphasizing each word by stabbing a finger into his chest. Or rather, the air in front of his chest. She was still concerned, despite her anger, about his rather dismal physical condition.

"I wasn't trying to change the subject. I was trying to point out how _you_ changed the subject. Everyone just mangles the English language."

"You were pointing out what?" Now it was Ginny's turn to blink in surprise. "Perhaps you need more spontaneity in your life."

"I think you're all the spontaneity I can handle. In fact, you're too much to handle."

"So, there's no us," she said slowly. But before Draco even had a chance to respond, she shouted accusingly, "Is there something going on between you and Tonks?"

"What?"

"She warned me to stay away from you."

"Did she really?" Draco said, arching an eyebrow. Though he knew Tonks was protective of him, he could not fathom why she felt the need to warn girls away from him or how she even got the impression that Ginny Weasley should be warned.

"Yes, really! She's much too old for you anyhow," Ginny replied, visibly pouting.

Draco smirked. "She's also my cousin."

Ginny suddenly felt the need to hold her breath. Purebloods were not above, or below, however one considered the issue, marrying within their own family to maintain their bloodlines but to Ginny, it was a rather unpalatable concept.

Draco, catching the look on her face, felt a surge of anger and disgust rush through him and was able to propel himself off the wall. "I never said there was anything between us," he snarled.

"Well you didn't deny it either. And if there is nothing to hide, then why are so angry about it anyway?" Ginny could feel her cheeks burning. She was unable to comprehend how Draco Malfoy of all people could elicit such strong reactions from her. But her anger soon deflated as she saw him stalk towards her, his eyes hard and cold. She reached into the pocket of her robes and clumsily grasped her wand. As she pulled it out however, Draco's long fingers circled her wrist.

Ginny gulped visibly. But instead of taking the wand from her, Draco directed it to his own chest and whispered, "_Legilimens_."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

_Chapter 3 – My Own_

The fanatical eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange swam in front of Draco and he shuttered his own against them. But he could still feel her watching him with interest whereas his father had abandoned him in the depths of the forest long ago.

"It's always hard seeing it for the first time, Draco."

It was the first sensible sentence he had ever heard his Aunt Bella utter. Yet, it was one of the most frightening things she had ever said to him.

"But you will get used to it." She leaned in and breathed against his neck. "You'll even learn to enjoy it."

'I stand corrected, or slumped against a tree,' he thought, shuddering as she moved even closer to him, one hand tightly gripping his shoulder, the other flat against his chest.

"You have potential, Draco. Great potential." Bellatrix began drawing painful circles on Draco's chest with her sharp nails. "Your father may not think so, but they never thought _I_ would amount to much you know. Cissy was the beautiful one. Andy the smart one. Sirius the funny one. Reg the obedient one. But now, now, I do things on my own. Don't you want to do that too?"

Draco nodded meekly.

"But you, love, still have so much to learn," she purred, licking her lips. She suddenly grabbed his left wrist and pulled it level to her dark eyes. "I see you wear your father's ring." She pressed her thumb against the platinum crest before flicking the off-centered eye-shaped emerald. "But you're better than a Malfoy. You're a Black."

"Bella!" Lucius Malfoy pulled the witch away from his son. He didn't like to share. "It's time for another…demonstration." He turned angrily towards Draco. "Maybe this one will be more to your taste. At any rate, you better be able to stand for it or I'll make sure you'll never stand again."

Bellatrix gave Draco a wide smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine. By and by, love, how old are you, seventeen, eighteen now?"

"I'm only fifteen," Draco croaked.

"Oh, even better."

Ginny woke up in a cold sweat. It had been nearly a month since Draco had shown her a mere glimpse of his interaction with Bellatrix Lestrange but still it haunted her. As she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, she thought for the umpteenth time how it must still haunt him too. And though she was desperate to talk to him again, she never managed to get him alone. If she was ever able to find him, which was rarely since he quitted both Quidditch and his Prefect duties, he always had a Slytherin at his side. Usually Blaise Zabini who had recently perfected a glare that even Snape could have been proud of.

But still Ginny persevered. At every opportunity, she tried to make eye contact with Draco. But somehow, he always managed to avert his gaze. Even Ron began noticing her distraction. Only last night, at supper, he had put his fork down (something he rarely did when he had begun eating). "Oi, Ginny, let Malfoy die in peace. Even _I_'m letting that poor bugger do that."

Of course there had been plenty of speculation regarding Draco's condition since the beginning of the year. No one believed the general claim that the Slytherin was mourning his father's arrest but even Hermione eventually shrugged and said it was beyond her understanding. Though Harry had insisted that Draco was involved in some suspicious activities, the blond's continued listlessness had elicited a near sympathy in almost everyone else. With the exception of Ron and some fellow Gryffindors who continued to snicker at him, the rest of the school could not help but be disturbed by the boy's steady deterioration. It was as though the forgiveness that came with death had already descended in anticipation of the event.

Ginny threw herself back down on her bed, willing herself to stop thinking of Draco and fall asleep. But all she could do was think of him. She rolled off the mattress and onto her feet, cursing his name. She had broken up with Dean soon after her second snogging episode with the blond Slytherin. Whatever sparks she had once felt with her ex-boyfriend were no longer there or so meager in comparison with what she felt with Draco that she felt nothing in Dean's arms. Now that she was 'on the market,' so to speak, she thought Harry had been eyeing her oddly.

But Ginny could spare few thoughts for Harry. Not when Draco seemed to be on the brink of collapse. Ginny sighed and decided to grab a snack in the kitchens. It wasn't as though she could go back to sleep anytime soon.

Large round eyes blinked at Draco. "Does young Master want anything else?"

While most of the former Malfoy elves had grudgingly accepted their reassignment to various Order members and Grimmauld Place, Fossett had made it quite clear he would serve no one but Draco. Dumbledore had only smiled and given the old creature permission to attend Draco at Hogwarts, which the elf had pledged he would do to the utmost.

The said boy looked at the white-capped bottle in his hand and the glass of water in the other. He shook his head but Fossett nonetheless stoked the fire and set a plate of cookies on the floor before leaving him to his own devices. Draco's lips curved in a ghostly resemblance of his old smirk but instead of indulging his sweet tooth, he opened the bottle and shook out two round-shaped pills. Tipping his head back, he placed the pills on his tongue and took a drink of water.

"What are you doing here?"

Draco almost choked but managed to swallow the capsules. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before he focused them on the pajama-clad Ginny Weasley.

"It's late," she commented as she drew near him.

"Yeah, well, what are _you_ doing here?" he replied, knowing that at another time, he would have had a far wittier reply, made fun of her hair and freckles, and been able to care about his performance. But now, now he merely leaned his head against the hearth and let the bottle slide through his fingers.

It rolled towards Ginny's slippered feet and she picked it up. "What is this?" Turning the bottle over in her hands, she came across the label, 'Aspirin.' The name sounded familiar but it was not till she took the seat next to Draco that she realized it was a term from her Muggle Studies class. She looked at Draco with wide eyes but he seemed particularly interested in the wall opposite them.

"You've been avoiding me," she stated, not knowing what else to say.

"And have you been stalking me?"

"I've wanted to talk to you," she replied, skirting his question.

But Draco hardly noticed. The pounding in his head had barely receded, even with the use of various Muggle medications. After the Healer at St. Mungo's had shaken his head and said there was no more he could do and Snape had thrown a bottle of his latest potion against the kitchen wall, Tonks had ditched her spiky pink hair in favor of long honey locks and taken Draco to several London doctors for examination. The aspirin had helped some, but the relief was temporary and Draco had almost begged his cousin to find another cure.

"Oh, just because it's Muggle medicine," Tonks had sighed.

"No, it's because I would be dependent on pills for every hour of my life," Draco had replied, hanging his head. "I can't live like that. I won't."

"Why are you a vegetarian anyway?"

"Wh-what?" he replied, Ginny's question breaking through his haze.

"Why don't you eat meat?"

Draco, having little will or reason, to resist her line of questioning or come up with sarcastic replies, answered her with a truthful despair that hardly touched him but endeared her even more to his pain. "Well, Ginny, how could I?" He weakly held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. "Do you think I could kill and eat a creature I have healed?"

"No," she breathed. And after a moment, asked, "Can you heal anything?"

"I can't heal the dead, if that's what you mean. I can't heal my mother. I suppose I can only do the things any other mediwitch can do. I just don't need a wand."

"That's not true, Draco."

"You know that for a fact, do you, Ginny?" Draco's head drooped to the side, until it rested against Ginny's shoulder. His eyes closed on their own volition and for a moment, he thought he could find peace.

"I know that for a fact, Draco," she said. "Wandless magic comes to us from the most ancient forms of magic. Powerful magic."

"I know that. I used to be second in my class."

"Oh?" Ginny replied, surprise evident in her voice. With the exception of Hermione, she thought all the head of classes were from Ravenclaw.

Draco made a weak movement that Ginny took the liberty of interpreting as a nod. "After Granger."

"You called Hermione by her last name," Ginny gasped.

"Yes." Though Draco could hear her words clearly, he felt oddly disconnected from her voice. Like it was some far-off bell that tolled for him.

"Well you've always called her all sorts of nasty names before," she continued when he said no more.

"I'm too tired to be clever," he said as he half-slipped, half-crawled into her lap.

"I didn't know you were clever." Ginny blushed, finding Draco's actions detrimental to forming coherent sentences. "I mean…I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't know…well, you say some funny things sometimes. Though they are usually mean."

"Can't unkind things still be funny? Perhaps I merely have a dark humor. Some people may say that is symptomatic of my upbringing. But you know, my mum brought me up too. Well, as much as she could. My father didn't like her interfering."

"You love your mum, don't you?"

"If I know what love is," he said wearily.

"Don't you think you know?" Ginny said, her voice hitching slightly, her heart thumping rapidly as she anticipated his answer.

"Tell me what you think it is," he murmured.

She wanted to tell him that she thought she saw it in his eyes. But instead of seeing the intense steel of his irises, she only saw his eyelids drifting close once again and for a fleeting moment, she felt him drifting away from her too. She placed her warm hand on his clammy skin and shivered. "I think I grew up surrounded by it," she began. And she described the Burrow of her memory. The warm kitchen, her fussing mother, a house full of boys. But then they all started leaving. Her cool brother Bill and her favorite, Charlie. And though she didn't miss Percy's high-handedness very much, he would step-in whenever the twins and Ron got too rowdy. He taught her useful magic while the others taught her mere parlor tricks. And of course, the twins made her laugh.

"And Weasley?"

"Ron's there when I need him. But sometimes, he's just so dense," Ginny replied. She laughed slightly as she continued, "But I'm just so stubborn. I never let him know when I need help. But I'm not really telling you what love is, am I?"

"You are. It's on your face. It's in your eyes. Even in the inflection of your voice."

"And what do you gather from that?"

"I don't know. That perhaps love is not something you can exactly put into words. That it is a feeling of warmth, security. You lost that when they left, didn't you?"

Ginny chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Dark images of a leather-bound diary, dark corridors and red eyes flashed through her mind. "No, I didn't lose it," she said slowly. "But I thought I did. I had thought my first year here would be different. I had been left at home for an entire year and I thought coming to Hogwarts meant I was going to be with most of my brothers again and everything would be like old times. Better than old times. But it didn't turn out that way, and I guess I got myself lost."

"You didn't get lost. You were lead astray."

The harshness in Draco's voice almost caused Ginny to jump. She turned a startled look down at the boy in her lap and found him looking intently at her. His eyes were liquid silver in the dark and she thought she could drown. But then he blinked slowly, his eyelashes surprisingly dark and thick, especially against his pale skin, and Ginny again shivered at the odd sensation of somehow feeling alone.

"Did you just read my mind?" she whispered.

"Yes."

A silence enveloped them. "You did know, didn't you?" she finally said.

"About Tom Riddle and the diary? I didn't find out until this summer when I was going through my father's things. There were hints. But I didn't know completely."

"What sort of…" Something clicked in Ginny's head. _Until this summer_. "Why did you kiss me in the pantry?"

"Why do you think I did?"

"Don't answer a question with a question!" Ginny practically screamed. She knew she was on the verge of tears but she didn't know if it was from anger or disappointment. "Why did you do it? Were you sorry for me? Were you sorry for what your father did to me?"

Draco closed his eyes slowly. He took a deep breathe and exhaled it noisily. "I _am_ sorry about what my father did. I'm more sorry than you can perhaps ever know."

Ginny sniffled and tried to hide her face behind her hands. But Draco reached up and wrapped his long fingers around her wrists, pulling them away to see the tears falling silently from her eyes. "But that didn't mean I pitied you." Draco licked his lips. He was never particularly comfortable with crying and his mother always did her best to hide it from him. And of course, this wasn't his mother. "It was because of what you said. And because of what you saw when you looked at me. Like I was an actual person. Not Malfoy. But Draco. And I don't know, Gin. Maybe it's in my head, maybe I wanted to see something that wasn't there. What do you see in me anyway?"

"Don't you know?"

"I can read your mind but I can't read your heart."

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she tried to look at the blond clearly. But she could never look at him clearly, could she? Not after he kissed her. Not after he had made her feel so much within herself and so much for him. She couldn't exactly call it love. The love she had always known was safe and familiar. It was the love she felt for and with her family, for her closet friends, for Hermione and for Harry (now). What she felt for Draco was different. It was not the strong but serene river that stretched back and connected her to all her brothers, her parents and those who were as good as family. It was an intense roaring in her ears. A swelling of her heart, a catch in her throat, the feeling of bubbling over. It was like an explosion of stars. And yet, she had never really known him. She had only felt him underneath her skin as this tingling but fiery sensation. "I don't know. I don't just see a boy who fought against his own side to get to the right one. I…I…you're going to think this is stupid," she murmured, blushing.

"I promise you I won't," he said solemnly, his grey eyes boring into hers.

Ginny grasped his hand tightly with her own. "When I look at you, all I can see is you. When I touch you, all I feel is you. It's like I'm somehow connected to you. You make me feel alive in a way that's different from just breathing. I feel like…I'm living."

As Draco slowly absorbed her words, he realized that the pounding in his head had receded. "That's funny. Because when I'm with you, I feel at peace." And he propped himself up on his elbows to kiss her on the lips.


End file.
